


Tripartite

by acari



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M, Multi, Triple Drabble, voyeur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-06-09
Updated: 2003-06-09
Packaged: 2017-10-02 05:49:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acari/pseuds/acari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The moon, the sun, and a creaking floor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tripartite

**Author's Note:**

> For Brenda. Happy Birthday, my darling comma queen.

When it happens the first time it passes like a dream: moving shadows illuminated by the light of the waning moon, the echo of whispering voices.

Paris doesn't want to stay, but dreams have the power to enchant, bewitch, so he does. It's not graceful and Paris doesn't want to look, but there is beauty, too: in full lips latching on to a bared neck, fingers digging into slender hips, silvery light catching on a drop of sweat.

Paris blinks, blinded by their brightness; and suddenly they're gone, leaving only a moan reverberating in the air.

~~~

When it happens the second time, misty dawn still hangs over the plain like a curtain. A moan, soft like a whisper, draws Paris towards a shadowy corner.

Orlando, leaning against a trailer, a delicate hand buried in black strands, undecided between cradling the head and caressing the hair.

If only Paris dared to look, he would see full lips, Karl's lips, stretched around flushed skin. Breathless gasps pouring from Orlando's mouth beckon Paris closer. If only he dared to reach out, he could feel Orlando's blood heat up under his fingertips.

The sun rises - and Paris feels unsettled.

~~~

When it happens the third time Paris has died one too many times, his body demanding a break and lunch. He stumbles into his trailer - stops cold.

Harsh daylight accentuating sharp angles, strong curves; he sees Orlando, straddling Karl, licking up the side of Karl's neck.

Karl's mouth silently forms a word; Paris doesn't wonder why he knows how Orlando's name looks on Karl's lips.

Orlando rests his head on Karl's shoulder, smiles into Karl's skin, and something twists inside Paris' stomach.

The floor creaks under Paris' steps and when Karl's eyes meet his, Paris cannot look away.

 

End.


End file.
